


What Day Will Bring

by ForAllLove



Series: Peace Until the Morning [3]
Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Bofur is the best, Commitment, Communication, Craic-Ship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, I love you Bofur, Interracial Relationship, Interspecies, M/M, Romance, reassurance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 15:26:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForAllLove/pseuds/ForAllLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bilbo is granted more than he dared ask for, and gives something in return.</p><p>Slight spoilers for book and upcoming films, vaguely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Day Will Bring

**Author's Note:**

> Well, there it is, more or less. I hope you all enjoy.

There was always a threat of darkness within Erebor.

The lamps strung along its arching corridors did little to alleviate Bilbo’s unease. Strange echoes scattered throughout the halls, rattling under the heavy wooden door of the bedchamber. The acrid stench of dragon clung to cloth and rock alike. Were its former splendour restored, he would still find no rest in the depths of the Lonely Mountain.

Bilbo shifted yet again, mindful of his slumbering companion. He would never be comfortable in this sunless, timeless place, where death laid thick upon his shoulders. With every new day, his thoughts bent more strongly towards the Shire, to fields and forests and the coming spring. He huffed and turned to face his bedmate once more.

The glow of the single lantern gilded Bofur’s hair like the molten rock that flowed beneath the forges. His face appeared more careworn in sleeping than in waking of late; Bilbo smoothed his fringe, traced one dark brow, before slipping out from beneath the covers.

He paced a small circle upon the rug until grief threatened to overtake him, then scrubbed his eyes at the stone basin and began afresh. He was but one small hobbit — the wonder and heartache of the quest had changed him, and not, perhaps, for the better. The more he thought of his old life, the more keenly he felt what he must needs leave behind to reclaim it.

The losses had been too great already, yet all for a home that had no place for him.

“Bilbo?”

Bofur’s sleep-roughened voice struck the last blow upon his resolve; he raised helpless hands against his tears. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so—”

Within moments, he was caught up in Bofur’s arms and borne back to the bed to be cosseted. He curled himself as tightly as he could around the dwarf once they were nestled beneath the covers. Calloused fingertips stroked his cheek and his ear, and he calmed to periodic sniffling. “Will you tell me what’s worrying you?” Bofur murmured into his hair.

Bilbo kept his head down. This was Bofur’s home now — how could he explain that it was the mountain itself that made him feel unwelcome, and that that which they’d yearned and bled for was rather more like a prison to a creature of sunlight and grassy fields? Instead, as Shire-folk were wont to do, he stated plainly, “I need to go home.”

“I thought you might,” said Bofur as he squeezed a little tighter. “When shall we leave?”

Bilbo sat half-up atop him, clutching at his collar. “You’ll come with me?” He couldn’t hold back a foolish, relieved smile as joy began to flicker anew within his heart.

Beaming, the dwarf gathered Bilbo’s hands to his lips. “Of course.”

Bilbo set about sharing his happiness in the best way he knew how — with little affections showered upon the face he’d come to hold most dear. Bofur’s arms curled about his middle, to pull him down so that he might lie snug, with his nose burrowed into side-whiskers.

There were a great many things Bilbo had yet to experience; knowing that he had time to discover them at leisure eased both his sorrows and his touches. He was ready for a future with Bofur, for his most rewarding adventure yet. How the gammers’ tongues would wag — his reputation might never recover. But, he did not mind as long as Bofur did not. If they stood together, he could bear anything. He lifted up a bit and folded his arms across Bofur’s chest. “Will you be content there? In the Shire, away from your family?”

“Oh, aye,” said Bofur readily. “There’s no home for me without you.”

“I love you,” Bilbo blurted.

The soothing caresses upon his shoulders paused; Bofur was at a loss for words. Bilbo cupped his jaw, stroking with his thumbs while the dwarf gathered himself. At last, in wonder, Bofur reached up to run careful fingers over the hobbit’s cheek. “That’s the first time you’ve told me.”

“Well, I don’t need to be afraid anymore,” said Bilbo, and kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus points if you can spot the sneak!quote.
> 
> Also let me know if there was any weirdness, plot holes or something. I'm not operating at 100% today.


End file.
